February 16, 2023 Jane

My daughter, now in her mid-thirties, has always been right about everything. One of the many things I regret is that I didn't really listen to her, and never took action, or refrained from taking action, according to her view. I’ve lost her now; she exited my life in September of 2022, citing that while she wishes me well, she no longer wants to hear from me. This abandonment was expected after years of her telling me that she likes me better when we have no contact. Initially, I freaked out, then I was relieved, as the anxiety I experienced in her adult presence was overwhelming. Only recently, five months after the fact, I have been looking back, not just to her exemplary qualities, but to the memories of her that I cherish.

I write this reflection in the hope that someday she will read it and remember me as I was before I became the bane of her existence. I hope she will remember me as the mother whom she once loved.

As a baby, she was precocious – walking and talking four months or so after her birth. Her first word was “Birdie”, as her room also housed a cockatiel. She was always busy, both physically and mentally. I recall that in place of naps, the caretaker would have to sit with her for hours crumpling up newspaper. Jane stayed up late so that her father and I could see her after work. Being of a creative bent, he fashioned a song about her based on her sometimes curmudgeon-like behavior, and her earliest nickname was “Mudgie”.

I took her to the office with me when she was two or three years old. When asked by a co-worker what she wanted to be when she grew up, she replied, “Like Mommy”. The co-worker thought she meant becoming a lawyer like me; when pressed, Jane replied, “No, a mommy”. Decades later, she does not want children. I wonder if she will stick to that.

Jane could have easily become a good lawyer. When she was ten years old or so, we went to Frank’s Nursery and small, decorative reindeer caught her eye. We had a great five minute debate as to the merits of purchasing the reindeer, after which another shopper made a prophesy that she would become a lawyer. Jane became a veterinarian in 2019.

Whenever her dad did not come to dinner, which was often, Jane, her brother and I would discuss current events. And we would debate issues, for example, the pros and cons of the cultivation and use of tobacco. Her father and I always spoke to our children in an adult manner. They prospered intellectually under such interaction; unfortunately, both of them had to dumb themselves down in order to fit into the culture of each school they attended.

Jane learned this lesson on a trip to Jamaica when she was about six years old:

"After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing as wanting. It is not logical...but it is often true." Spock, Star Trek, "Amok Times"

At the airport in Chicago departing for the trip, she saw a stuffed animal in a gift shop, a fluffy white cat. She begged and pleaded for this toy, but we did not buy it for her. Upon our return, Jane made a beeline to the gift shop and we got her that stuffed animal. As soon as it was in her arms, she looked both confused and disappointed. Back at home, it soon disappeared.

Much like me in “Arranging the Furniture”, Jane loved to arrange. When she was young, it was not furniture, but her toys on the floor. Generally, these arrangements were in one or another geometric pattern and she guarded the design until she personally dismantled it.

Later on, Jane took joy from arranging habitats for her animals. The first that I recall was for a small green snake. She really liked that snake and made sure that its home was perfect. Much to my current shame, I made her get rid of it as the crickets it consumed kept escaping. Later on, her arrangements were for horses, goats, chickens, ducks and llamas at the farm. She and I raised the ducks in our basement in our city house first. What a mess, but so cute! We named one of them Aflack as it looked exactly like their logo.

She arranged and rearranged the furniture in her bedroom, too. Later on, it was her college dorm room, then her apartment at vet school. I recall that on one trip to see her there, we went to a store and purchased a string of lights that she decoratively hung along the top of the wall of the living room.

Jane was a gifted artist, especially drawing. She once created an amazing mural of animals, taping together many sheets of letter-sized paper. We hung it along the top of the wall in the kitchen dining area. On one of our many family plane rides, she drew with startling accuracy various dinosaurs from memory, freehand and in single, flowing lines. They were so well executed that a fellow passenger asked from what source she had traced the drawings.

While most of these memories are of Jane when she was young, I also cherish all the times in later years when she supported me, defended me and relied upon me when I did not let her down.

I miss her.